


Skyscraper + Sledgehammer

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Series: Prompt Fics [16]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Jack, Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016) Whump, Whump, bad at tagging too?, i'm terrible at summaries, who knows where this will go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 14:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21375772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: Jack was already having a bad enough day, on a mission in a skyscraper, unable to relish the similarities to his favorite movie while on a ticking time clock, when the clock runs out and he falls victim to a literal hammer of fate.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: Prompt Fics [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540795
Comments: 14
Kudos: 18





	Skyscraper + Sledgehammer

**Author's Note:**

> erinsworld requested #11 (I can’t see anything) + Mac & Jack + specifically hurt Jack (LIKE YOU EVEN HAVE TO ASK ME FOR THAT), so I present to you…the sledgehammer fic that will come in two parts.  
(or more. who knows.)

They were running through a skyscraper, which had three floors under construction, and they happened to be on the second floor which was in the most unstable state of disarray, metal beams and power tools and dust _everywhere_. 

Any other day, Jack would have ripped off his shirt, display the white tank top he always wears on missions involving skyscrapers for such an occasion, flip off his shoes and run after the bad guys while barefoot screaming “Yippie-ki-yay” at the top of his lungs, but Jack didn’t even have time to remark on the similarities to the greatest movie all time, a fact that he would moan and groan about later.

“They’re getting away!” Mac shouted from the other side of the building. The walls were mostly gone, save for outer perimeter and scattered drywall throughout as the bare-bones of office buildings. He was trying to make an impromptu smoke bomb that he would toss at the escaping group, after becoming free to do so since Jack had incapacitated two of the three men left behind to deal with them.

“Yeah, I can see that, hoss!” Jack barked back as he struggled to choke out one of the henchmen, straddling the man’s back. An odd sense of deja vu, as he feels like he should be refuting comments about the necessity of restraints.

“Got it! Okay, shut your eyes, I’m not sure how far the radius of this thing is gonna go...”

Mac throws the makeshift bomb, and Jack shuts his eyes tight, hears the hiss and groans and coughs of the victims. He can smell the smoke infiltrate his nostrils, overtaking them completely, it catches him more off guard than he thought it would. 

“Okay, open!” Mac coughs.

“Jesus, you said you were making a smoke bomb not _tear gas!” _Jack whines as his eyes sting and water instantly, which causes enough of a distraction for him to loosen his grip on his captive, and the man stumbles away. “Hey! Get back here! I’m not finished with you!”

But the man, who had also gotten the same heads up about the bomb and thus was able to recover as quickly from the smoke effects as Mac and Jack, had already gotten a few feet away, grabs a mini-sledgehammer from a nearby work table.

And flings it directly at Jack’s head as he dives towards the man.

The head of the hammer hits him in the center of his forehead, knocking him backward into the corner of a metal beam that splits his body down the middle. His vision fades and in its place, there’s an inward blossom of darkness that spreads through both of his eyes. 

“Fuck! A _sledgehammer? Really?” _he squeaks as his entire body throbs in a painful pulse. Even though he can’t see, he can _feel _the room tilting, spinning, he’s losing balance. 

“Jack!” Mac calls out.

“No, keep going! Get after them! I’ll be okay!”

He reaches his hands forward as his legs give out, stumbling forward in hopes that his vision would return to him soon enough to see the path ahead, to track down the runaway henchman and the rest of the bad guys, too. His stomach meets the edge of the worktable, he grips the sides as he breathes deep, waiting for stability to return to his body. He sucks in a deep inhale of smoky air, lowers his head--

Something sharp, jagged, slides across his head as he instantly realizes what his forehead had landed on. The tip of a circular saw blade. He groans loudly, throws his head back, dead drops himself to the ground to avoid any more hits to his backside. He can feel something pour down his face, ooze into his eyes, into his mouth, which he quickly closes. 

“Jack! What the hell, man?” Mac shouts, his voice gets louder, nearer. Jack groans again, they failed their part of the mission. “Oh my God!”

“Ah, Mac, I said--! Keep going!” Jack grunts as he feels Mac lift him up off the ground. 

“Hard to keep going when you’re over here walking right into a _saw blade_, there’s blood _everywhere!” _

“It’s fine, it’ll stop, they _won’t--”_

“Yeah, and neither will you. I’m not leaving you.”

He swipes his hands over his face to brush away the excess blood, opens his eyes, but there’s nothing but a blurry, pulsing, black void in front of him.

“I can’t see anything!” Jack admits. “I-I musta...hit...the ox-lippable lobe...”

“_Occipital,” _Mac corrects him. “It doesn’t seem like you have a contusion, I think you’ll be okay.”

“Think you mean...confusion? Cause I’m pretty damn confused right now, my eyes are open and I ain’t seeing _shit.” _

“No, Jack, _contusion, _which could indicate that you suffered a serious head trauma.”

“Thought that was a concussion?”

“Well, you might have one of those...I don’t actually know, though. Dammit, Jack I’m not a doctor...”

His voice trails off, and Jack furrows his eyebrows.

“Well...what are you then?”

Mac freezes, his heart sinks at the thought that Jack’s brain was actually injured, that he can’t recognize him.

“What...What do you mean?” he asks cautiously.

“C’mon, man, you can’t just start making a pop culture reference and not finish it!” he exuentuates the gravel in his tone, adopts a firmer tone to imitate a famous fictional doctor, “’Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor, not a rocket scientist!’”

“Oh,” Mac laughs in relief. “Right. Well...Dammit, Jack, I’m an improviser, not a doctor.” 

“Can you ‘improvise’ something to stop the bleeding here, buddy?”

_“Bleeding? Mac, Jack, what’s going on? Why am I seeing a swarm of angry men in tac gear exiting the building with the plans?” _

“Ran into a situation, Matty,” Mac quickly dismisses. They still had a chance, though it would be a slim one, that Riley and Bozer could take over their part from the ground.

“My fault,” Jack winces. “I’m sorry, Matty!”

_“Whoa, if Jack’s apologizing over comms, something must really be wrong. What’s his status?”_

“Jack’s status is that Jack’s _fine!” _Jack protests in a grumble. 

“Well, he got hit in the head with a sledgehammer, then cut on a saw blade. Lost his eyesight, but I think it’s only temporary.”

A beat, before Matty’s voice crackles through their earpieces again.

_“Get him out of there and back to the Phoenix,” _she orders with extra sharpness and importance in her voice._ “Riley, Bozer, we’re going with Plan B.” _

Mac switches his and Jack’s earpieces off as Jack stares blankly at him with wide, fearful eyes that aren’t actually looking at his eyes, but somewhere in the bottom left corner of his face.

“I-I think I c-can see now, but...I’m seeing red, Mac.”

“Well, I’d be mad too if I got hit in the head with a _freaking sledgehammer _and lived to tell the tale.”

“What?”

“I was making reference to...the meaning of the phrase you...you know what, nevermind, c’mon, let’s get you out of here.”


End file.
